


Naming Conventions of the Unconventional

by Anonymous



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, First Meetings, Gen, Imperium of Mankind Naming Conventions, Pre-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, The importance of Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Nine dialogues on the theme '(re)naming one's legion'.(The dialogues swing between crack and angst.)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42
Collections: PB Anon Meme - 2020





	Naming Conventions of the Unconventional

**I: Horus Would Protest**  
Horus and Russ (M30.831)

"If your men are the Luna Wolves, then mine will be the Space Wolves!" Russ declared, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Horus frowned. Everything about his new sibling was incomprehensible to him. He could hardly believe they were related.

"Why?" he asked at last.

"Because Luna's just a moon," Russ shrugged, "And we'll get the rest of space!"

Horus' frown deepened.

"That's not how it works," he said.

"Yeah it is," Russ insisted.

"No it isn't."

"Father said I could name them whatever I wanted." He didn't stick out his tongue but his tone achieved the same effect.

"So name them something else," Horus snarled. "The wolves are mine."

"The _Luna_ Wolves are yours," Russ grinned, "And the Space Wolves are mine."

"Yours aren't even wolves! There are no wolves are Fenris!"

"Says who?"

"Says everyone."

"Doesn't matter," Russ shrugged again. "They're my wolves now. Space Wolves." He grinned and preened, ignoring his brother's scowl. " _Space_ Wolves," he repeated.

Horus crossed his arms but said nothing else.

\---

 **II: Sanguinius Wins by Default**  
Sanguinius and Lion (M30.848)

"My name is Lion el'Jonson, and I am the Grand Master of the Order of Caliban," the platinum-haired blond who could only be one of his nineteen brothers said as greeting. "Draw your sword, Sanguinius of Baal. I challenge you to a duel for the right to the designation of 'angels'!"

Sanguinius stared, completely caught off guard.

"Lion... was it?" he asked at last when it became clear no additional explanation would be forthcoming.

"Lion el'Jonson, yes."

"A duel?" he repeated.

"Yes," his brother gestured with his sword, already-drawn.

"A duel for the right to the designation of 'angels'?"

" _Yes_."

Sanguinius blinked. He looked his sibling up and down. He stepped forward and Lion scowled.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "Draw your blade!"

"One second," Sanguinius insisted, having no prior knowledge of Caliban. He carefully walked around his brother. Lion followed, turning to meet him, as if he would be so underhanded (or bold) as to attack him from behind.

At last, Sanguinius could reign his curiosity in no longer.

"Do you have wings too?" he blurted out.

It was his brother's turn to falter.

"Wings?" he repeated.

"Yes," Sanguinius unfurled his own. "Wings. Like these."

His brother's sword clattered to the ground. His brother followed suit in a similar clatter of plate.

Sanguinius quickly drew his wings back.

"Sorry," he said, sheepish, "You said 'angels' so I thought..."

His brother glared at him from his spot on the ground. Sanguinius would have gone over to try to help him up if he didn't look like he wanted a piece of his jugular.

"I acted in error," his brother said at last, through gritted teeth. "The name is a better fit for your men. I will think up another name."

Sanguinius blinked, the context at last dawning on him.

" _That's_ what this is about?" he asked, "The names of our Legions?"

"Yes."

"Well what did you name yours?"

He was rewarded with another dirty look. "The Dark Angels," his brother eventually said.

"That's a lovely name," Sanguinius beamed. "A little morbid, but who isn't?"

Lion sheathed his sword and pushed himself up. With another clatter of plate, he stalked off in the same direction he had come in.

"You'll keep the name won't you?" Sanguinius asked after him. "Please do! It's so lovely and it matches your armour well!"

\---

 **III: Ferrus Doesn't Care**  
Ferrus and Perturabo (M30.849)

The sight of his newest-found brother seated in the hallway gave Ferrus pause.

"What are you doing there?" he asked.

"Thinking," Perturabo answered.

When no further elaboration came, Ferrus shrugged and moved to continue on his way.

"Wait!" Perturabo protested.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to ask me _what_ I'm thinking of?"

"Do you want me to?"

Perturabo huffed. "Not anymore."

Ferrus bit the inside of his cheek, recalling a similar outburst from the Phoenician. "What were you thinking of?" he asked. There remained some traces of amusement in his tone.

"I was thinking of what to name my Legion."

"Oh." A pause. "Still?" It was something he had mentioned off-handed to the other.

"Yes."

"There's nothing wrong with keeping the same name," Ferrus shrugged. "It's what Horus did."

"No," Perturabo shook his head, "The present name displeases me. If I am to remake them in my own image, under the ideals of my design, they must have a matching name."

"Suit yourself," Ferrus shrugged.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"How did you name _your_ Legion?" Perturabo asked.

"My name is Ferrus Manus and I have Iron Hands," Ferrus deadpanned.

"No, really."

"Really."

"I was called the Lord of Iron, you know?" Perturabo grumbled.

"Oh."

"But the 'iron' designation is already taken."

"That didn't stop Russ."

"Little does."

Ferrus gave a soft chuckle at that. "True," he admitted. "Dorn, then."

Perturabo furrowed his brow. "You wouldn't mind then?" he asked.

"No."

"Even though the title is already yours?"

"I am a Gorgon," Ferrus answered, "And I am no one's Lord."

Perturabo's gaze was almost challenging then. "The Iron Warriors," he said. "What say you?"

"I have no say," Ferrus shrugged, "They're not _my_ men."

"But you do not contest the name?"

"Why would I?" Perturabo was scowling again but Ferrus was already half an hour late for his Regicide match. "Can I go now?" he asked, "Or should I wait for you to rename each of your warriors too?"

Perturabo shot him a nasty look. Ferrus laughed at that, patting his brother on the shoulder before continuing on his way.

\---

 **IV: Dorn Takes No Offense**  
Dorn and Lorgar (M30.857)

"Brother," a figure with tan skin and golden eyes whose stature was roughly the same as his own greeted. "It is so good to meet you at last."

"Brother," Dorn said in-turn. "What are you called?"

"Lorgar. Lorgar Aurelian."

The two of them exchanged the gesture of the aquila. Dorn was heartened to see Lorgar made the sign of the Emperor with practiced ease; Russ did it so sloppily and Mortarion refused the practice altogether.

"Well met, Lorgar Aurelian," he said, "I am Rogal Dorn."

"Of Inwit, I heard."

"Of Terra now."

Lorgar nodded, smiling. "We are all of Terra now, are we not?" He cleared his throat and continued with, "I understand we are just meeting but I would like to ask a favour of you, from one sibling to another."

"Very well," Dorn sighed, though he had just finished a match with Ferrus, "Let me show you to the sparring cages."

"Oh no," Lorgar protested, "I don't mean to ask for a spar!"

"You don't?"

"No, well, that is..."

"What."

"I wanted to ask for your permission to change the name of my Legion."

Dorn turned back to look at his newly-found brother.

"Is this a joke?" he asked.

Lorgar was quick to bow his head. "It was a request made in error, I see, I apologize. Please forget I ever asked it."

"Not that," Dorn snorted. "I mean the nature of your question."

"What?"

"We're brothers," Dorn stressed, "That means we're equals. I've no right to give you permission to do anything."

Lorgar brightened considerably. "So then you'll let me change the name?"

"I cannot forbid you from doing so, no."

"There's nothing wrong with the term 'Imperial' of course," Lorgar was quick to reassure him, "Indeed, I find the 'Imperial Truth' to have a wonderful quality."

"As you should."

"It just seems too redundant. No offense."

"None taken."

"I mean to rename them the Word Bearers. How does that sound?"

"Terrible."

"Wonderful," Lorgar smiled and his golden eyes glittered. They were disconcerting; too much like the Emperor's, Dorn thought. "Thank you very much, Rogal. I am in your debt."

Dorn thought to protest and then thought better of it.

"Think nothing of it," he said instead.

\---

 **V: Fulgrim Really Doesn't Care**  
Fulgrim and Curze (M30.895)

"Konrad," Fulgrim admonished, "Names are _important_. They require delicacy. Thought. Restraint."

Konrad Curze snorted.

"It's a perfectly good name," he insisted.

"The Night Haunter's Children?" Fulgrim repeated, gesturing to the gruesome nameplate his brother had fashioned out of skin and bone. "Really?"

"Really."

"No," Fulgrim shook his head, "I won't hear of it."

Konrad's gaze darkened. "Then what would you call them?" he countered.

"Something which befits their status."

"They are sons of a sunless world."

"They are not just sons but warriors, Konrad. Lords."

"They are the muck and grime at the bottom of your men's boots," Konrad snorted.

"Then you must raise them up to their rightful places."

"The Night Haunter's Lords?" Konrad tried.

Fulgrim frowned. "That's too many words."

"It's three words!"

"Which is one word too many."

"What about the sons of Ultramar? Or Nocturne?"

"Exceptions," Fulgrim waved his hand. "How about the Night Lords?" he asked. "That's got the same gist."

Konrad frowned. "It's completely different."

"That sounds like approval to me," Fulgrim beamed. "I'll let Father know right away!"

Konrad launched himself at the Phoenician with a cry but Fulgrim only laughed, merrily grappling with him -- while sending the name change request through the vox -- and by the end of it, Konrad found himself out of breath, on the floor, and the unwilling master of the newly named VIIIth.

\---

 **VI: The Khan Wants to Remember**  
Magnus, Mortarion, and Khan (M30.879)

The Khan was walking through the Imperial gardens in the hour before daybreak when the Master of Prospero appeared before him.

"Brother," Magnus greeted, and though it was obvious his image was but a projection, the Khan still wished to reach out and ascertain the other's immateriality for himself. "It is good to finally meet you," the sorcerer said.

The Khan smiled. "It is a relief," he admitted, "To see a dream in the flesh."

"It is twilight yet. When are you to meet with your men?"

"At noon."

"Then you've time." Magnus walked back towards the Inner Palace. "Come," he said, "There's someone I want you to meet."

The person of interest turned out to be another brother. His name was Mortarion, the Khan knew, and he was dimly aware his homeworld had been discovered decades before his own. Unlike the rest of their reunited kin, Mortarion was sequestered in the central observatory, surrounded by books on all sides.

"Magnus," he growled when the two of them entered. "How many times must I tell you, I'll have none of your tricks."

"It's not a trick this time," Magnus protested. "Look, he's really here."

Mortarion swung his scythe at the two of them. It cut right through Magnus' projection, but the Khan needed to block it with his dao. Steel met steel with a shrieking sound and Mortarion pulled back immediately.

"You..." he said, looking at the Khan with unabased incredulity, "You're real."

The Khan shrugged.

Mortarion turned to Magnus. "The wards," he demanded, "How did he get past them?"

" _What_ wards?"

"Can you breathe?" Mortarion asked of him, "Do you normally breathe?"

"There's a miasma about him," Magnus explained, explaining nothing, though the Khan had since grown accustomed to his dissembling. "So Malcador placed a series of wards about this place. When it's under control, he'll be sent back to his Legion."

"You are the master of the Dusk Raiders then," the Khan concluded.

"Death Guard," both his brothers corrected.

"And who are you?" Mortarion demanded, "Which Legion is yours? The Nineteenth? The Fifth?"

"That one."

"The Fifth?"

"They're the White Scars now," Magnus interjected.

"It's a misunderstanding," the Khan sighed. "But the name's stuck."

"Why have you come?" Mortarion demanded anew. He whirled on Magnus. "Why have you brought him here?"

"I wanted the two of you to meet," Magnus repeated. His smile was gentle, even if his gaze was not. The Khan looked from one brother to another and suddenly ached with longing for his home on the steppe. Simpler times, he realised, that had now been lost forever. Now there was only jockeying, jealous gaze and poorly-veiled aggressions.

"Well consider us acquainted," Mortarion spat, turning away from both of them to return to his books.

"What is the purpose of this library?" the Khan asked.

Mortarion shrugged, listlessly flipping through the present tome. "The Regent said I can leave once I've read them all."

"And you did not contest him?"

"I tried."

He was looking at a beast, he realised. A caged and cornered beast, so weary that it had since given up on escape. More than the barbs and half-lies, the Khan found this reduced state of existence fundamentally abhorrent.

"I could burn the library," he offered.

"Don't," Magnus said, holding out an ethereal hand. "I've tried."

"What happened then?"

"They multiplied," Mortarion laughed. "That was ten years ago."

"Nine and a half."

Without another word, the Khan turned around, stalking out of the observatory and back to the throne room. The first rays of the sun were just peeking through the horizon, a normally soothing sight that only fueled his fury now. He had known his father's Regent to be a meddler at first sight, but see the extent of his meddling.

"Stop," Magnus commanded. "You have some resiliency to the Warp, but it will not save you now."

"I must try," he said, brushing past the other.

"Jaghatai. Please."

The Khan strode forward and threw open the doors. He saw the Regent in his false glory and opened his mouth to speak.

Then he blinked and found himself at the center of a grand amphitheatre, erected on the occasion of the renaming of his Legion. Warriors decked in snow-white plate cheered all around him as his father placed the laurels of lordship on his brow. The sun shone brightly, lighting up the sky.

The Khan looked to his left and saw the Regent. He was smiling and nodding and clapping, like the rest of the attendants. Their gazes met and he was ashamed to be the first to look away.

He would remember this, he swore. Even if he forgot the circumstances, even if the greater reason came to light, he would remember this wrong.

\---

 **VII: Roboute Wants to Forget**  
Roboute and Angron (M30.904)

"Angron, Father asks if you... why are you naked."

Rather than answer, his brother lobbed the nearest piece of furniture, a chest of drawers, at him. Roboute deflected it with his arm and the wood shattered upon contact with his guard.

"Angron," he started again, "You should really wear some clothing."

"Get out," his brother snarled as globs of what Roboute hoped was saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth.

"So should I tell Father you won't rename your Legion?"

"He is _not_ my father!"

"Correct. He is not _your_ father, he is _our_ father."

"We are not kin!" Angron roared, as his fist went flying into a wall. The prison cell trembled. "My kin are dead! I have died with them!" The act of speaking three coherent sentences seemed to have winded him for he retreated into himself, turning away. What followed was quieter, more laboured: "A ghost is all I am."

"If not brothers then how about friends?" Roboute countered, extending his hand. "I've always wanted a ghost as a friend."

Angron batted his offering away.

"I am no friend to your kind," he answered. "It was men like you who slaughtered my kin."

"Yet I could say the same of you."

"Get. Out."

"Just tell me this," Roboute sighed, "Do you intend to change the Legion's name or not?"

"What's it to you?"

"Our men were kin, once," he said.

Another snort. "Because of their numbers?"

"And their names." Then, when Angron did not demand him to leave again, Roboute continued with: "My men were the War-Born. And your Hounds followed at their heels."

"And you changed it?" Angron asked, "The name your precious father gave your Legion?"

"Yes," Roboute lowered his head in remembrance, "That name was from a different time. The Legion needed to be remade."

Angron gave a dark chuckle. "You ask a boon of me." Silence. "You want me to follow your lead. To preserve this fragile peace of yours."

"I merely elaborated on my own decision-making process," Roboute insisted. "What you do is your own decision."

"They are to be renamed," Angron continued as his face split with an ugly grin, "My kin were the eaters of cities. These grave-grubbers your father has saddled me with will be the eaters of worlds."

"Thank you," Roboute said. "I take my leave."

"Wait."

Roboute turned.

"Do you know, whose worlds they will eat?"

"No," Roboute answered, "But they will not be mine." He walked away with measured steps, taking care not to slam the door. Angron's manic laughter reverberated down the hall and Roboute sought to put the encounter behind him.

\---

 **VIII: Vulkan Pulls No Punches**  
Vulkan and Corax (M30.940)

"All the other Legions' names have two words," Corax remarked as Vulkan was pulling him up, "Save for yours."

"And Roboute's," Vulkan corrected.

"And Roboute's." Corax paused, looking around the otherwise empty sparring chamber. "Why is that, I wonder?"

There was an amused twinkle in Vulkan's eyes. "Is it custom on Kiavahr," he asked, "For the loser to cross-examine the winner?"

"...No."

"I jest," Vulkan reassured him, smiling, "And your question is a valid one. I think it has more to do with syllables than words," he admitted.

"What of the Third then?" Corax asked, "Or the Seventh?"

"Well it wouldn't do to go around calling a Legion the Emperors."

"That's true," Corax conceded. "But there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the renaming."

"Would you like there to be?"

Corax shrugged. "If there was a pattern, I would have no qualms following it."

"So long as it was just, you mean?"

"Yes."

"The pattern is this," Vulkan admitted, leaning in close as if divulging a secret, "It's the sound that goes from here," he touched his ear, "To here," and then his heart. He smiled again, meeting Corax's gaze. "But you've already chosen a name, haven't you?"

"I have. The Raven Guard. What are your thoughts of it?"

"It suits you well," Vulkan answered. His smile remained in place. "Would you think me to say otherwise?"

Corax smiled at last, softly shaking his head. "You would tell me the truth, brother," he said, "I know that much."

"It is a fitting name," Vulkan repeated, "Your men will wear it well."

\---

 **IX: Alpharius Appreciates Continuity**  
Horus and Alpharius (M30.981)

"So when you meet up with our Father," Horus explained, "He'll present you with your Legion."

"And I can rename them however I please?" his youngest sibling asked.

"You can."

The final Primarch was silent for a while. Horus returned to his own book, turning another well-worn page.

" _You_ chose not to though," he said.

"I did."

"Why?"

"It was a different time," Horus admitted.

"How so?"

"Like I said, I was reunited with our Father in my youth. I grew up, in a sense, among the ranks of the Luna Wolves."

"So you always considered yourself one of them."

"Yes."

"The XXth at the present... its symbol is a hydra, is it not?"

"It is."

"And your wolves have fought alongside them?" his brother pressed. "These members of the Alpha Legion?"

"Operatives is the preferred word, last I knew," Horus grinned. "And yes. Good men, all of them, even though they keep to themselves."

"And who is the leader?"

"Besides you, you mean?"

"They do not know me yet," his brother shrugged, "Surely there is someone else at the reins."

"Funny thing, that," Horus admitted, "It's a fellow named Alpharius. Always a different guy, but he keeps the name. Perhaps it's a title in the same vein as Jaghatai's surname."

His brother said nothing and Horus returned to his book. He got through a couple more pages before he looked up and arched an eyebrow.

"Do you mean to take on the same title?" he asked.

"Why not?" his brother shrugged. "I appreciate continuity."

"And you'll keep the Legion's name too?"

"That too."

Horus chuckled, shaking his head, before returning to the book. "I guess Sanguinius was right again," he said.


End file.
